in the backyard shed of WoffleHouse

Archive for January, 2010

Holy crap. It’s like this man just read my dream journal. In less than a month on the internets, he’s hit the nail on the head.

Waffleizeris a new blog after my own heart. I love that he’s contriving ways to waffle all sorts of non-standard textural delights. And I really love that this guy is endeavoring to become some sort of Waffle Profiteer, promoting the sales of waffle irons as part of the raison d’etre for the site. (Dang. Why didn’t I think of that?)

In light of the profound volume of middle-school giggle-fits presently happening online today thanks to to the frenzy around the unveiling of Steve Jobs’ new shiny thing, I dredged up and posted the file for this old ink drawing that I recently rediscovered:

But this, of course, naturally just set off another round of middle-school giggle-fits among the friends on Facebook, so it seemed only right to take 5 minutes to work up a further statement of the obvious:

It reminds me of my 2007 MFA show invitation. Which probably makes sense to about 7 people I can think of.

GHOTCZ #4: Czech Lessons

You know that episode of 30 Rock where they suspect that Tracy Jordan is illiterate? And he plays into it, wailing melodramatically, “I can’t reeead, Liz Lemon! My shameful secret is out. Now you know why I’m always running into the ladies bathroom. I can’t read! I sign my name with an X! I once tried to make mashed potatoes with laundry detergent! I think I voted for Nader! Nader!” For some reason this was the image in my head whenever confronted with the initial inscrutability of Czech text. Which was every day. Signs. Sentences. Menus. Magazines. And let’s not even get started on understanding the spoken language. I’m a lousy auditory processor in any language, so deciphering speech has been doubly difficult. Which I guess makes me the Helen Keller of learning Czech.

P, however found a great Czech language teacher, Jana Slavikova (Czech for Foreigners in Prague). Not only is she exceedingly patient with our gruesome, slow-death mangling of her language, she’s a great teacher and friend. And Czech is a really fascinating, if profoundly complex, language, so it’s stimulating learning it with her. P and I are making slow progress, but it’s progress nonetheless. And without Jana, I wouldn’t have met some other very cool women that I’m now friendly with as well..

GHOTCZ#5: Nov 17 1989/2009

For those of you a little shaky on European history, 1989 marked the beginning of the collapse of Communism in Eastern Europe, including such dramatic events as the destruction of the Berlin Wall, and the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia. On Nov 17, 1989, thousands of Czechs took to the streets in a peaceful protest that was the beginning of a string of political actions and events that led to the demise of the Communist era. We walked with the reenactment/anniversary parade, and it was unbelievably, unexpectedly moving. Participants were for the most part, incredibly quiet and mellow: none of the hollering, sequins and bombast that would probably accompany an equivalent American commemoration. Czechs are so low-key in general, it felt only fitting that their protests would be so…velvety. Somehow, this made the occasion all the more emotional..

GHOTCZ#6: Spartákiáda on YouTube

The continuation of my enthusiasm for large masses of people up to interesting antics! In an utterly different context!
Those of you who know of my profound obsession with the Cebu Prisoners (aka the Dancing Inmates) in the Philippines will appreciate my new-found obsession with vintage footage of the epic “Spartakiada” performances at Strahov Stadium, here in Prague. These mass gymnastics displays were held every 5 years during the Communist era.

Google or Youtube the term “Spartakiada” if you want more: this one’s my current favorite. It’s not just the little white shorts I like: formally, there’s also something about all of this playing out on a dirt field the color of skin, as opposed to the green-ness of grass or Astroturf. (It does, however, feel more like it should be the opening ceremonies for the next SF Pride, as opposed to a celebration of Czech youth and vigor. But then, I’m a San Francisco native, so I was indoctrinated a little differently).

Ten years ago in January, I gave my first batch of Leadership High School students a New Years’ assignment entitled “Self-Portrait in 10 Years: 2010”. This was my first year as a “real” (mostly surreal) teacher at a pretty bizarre school where we made up the rules as we went along, and where nobody seemed to notice when I gave students psychologically loaded homework.

Students had to write a New Year’s letter to themselves, reflecting on the last ten years of their lives, and make a self-portrait art piece, as well. Since they were only 16 or 17 years old at the time, they had to envision what they thought they’d be like at 26 or 27 years old, and to imagine what had happened in those ten years in-between.

It was made clear that kids didn’t have to be model citizens in this project: they were free to project their futures into this project, regardless of appropriateness. The resultant projects were funny and poignant, especially in thinking about them now. Some students expected to be married with kids. A number of girls expected to be strippers. A couple of kids were fugitives from the law. One kid was working in a shoe store after some prison time. Another was getting out of celebrity rehab. Someone controlled the universe. One girl had a piercing studio. Two students were high tech pimps. Despite the lack of access to the work, I remember many of those assignments well, and I have incredibly fond (if slightly disturbing) memories of them.

I took photos and made copies of all of their work, fully intending to return the projects right around now. (Because I’m sentimental and nuts like that. Not to mention a total pack rat.) Of course, I’m now in Prague and the work is still buried deep in storage in California, so other than a couple of jpegs that ended up on my laptop, it may take a bit longer before I can get the work back to my former students.Woff and Pizzi with her 2010 project, LHS, 2000

I did some further recall, and realized that I’m still in contact with over half of this first group of students. They were a pretty amazing, funny group of kids, I was a young, beginner teacher, and LHS was a tiny, new school: while I’ve always stayed in contact with individual students, I was probably closer to this group as a whole than any other batch of students since.

Their assignments were wildly inaccurate projections, as it turns out. Not too many strippers or fugitives (that I know of): some grad students, some parents, some teachers, some slackers. Your classic cross-section of San Francisco adults in their mid-twenties, all still precious, interesting and unique.

The “Self-Portrait in 10 Years” assignment became a January tradition for my students over the following few years. This means that in the next few years I’ll have many other projects that need to be returned, as well.

Here’s the original assignment, below.
You know, for those of you who want to do it and send it to me for safe-keeping for 10 years.
______________________

SELF-PORTRAIT: 2010

Your first art project of the new year is a response to time passing: art being as it is a good creative record of how one lives one’s life, the New Year seems like an appropriate time and method to reflect on who you are and who you think you’re becoming. While many people use birthdays or anniversaries as markers and milestones, January 1 is a relatively universal opportunity to share and reflect with others.

You are to write a long New Year’s letter to yourself, and create a self-portrait, incorporating the things you’ve done, the things you love, the things that surround you in your daily environment.

But.

Let’s make it more interesting.

You are to do this project, as you are, ten years from now.

2010: THE LETTER

1. A New Year’s Day reflective letter/journal entry, as you are in the year 2010, 1.5 to 2 pages, typed single-spaced
2. It should probably include thoughtful reflection about the last ten years of your life: what’ve you gone through since you were in high school? You’re now 26 years old. What have you done? Where’d you go to college (if you went)? Where did you go? Did you travel? Get married? Divorced? Have kids? Are you in politics? In jail? Are you happy with your life? Did some twist of fate take you on a path you never expected?
3. Don’t just list things off (I did this. I did that. Bo-o-o-ring.) Make it personal, interesting, engaging, believable, because this who you truly are, and will always be. Really come up with a sense of who you are, who you’ve become in your 20s. Describe where you are, physically, professionally, emotionally.

2010: THE SELF-PORTRAIT

1. A semi-realistic self-portrait, as you are in the year 2010, mixed media, 9×12 to 11×14 inches

2. Include physical details about your life and present environment. These can include items such as the place you’re living/working/traveling in. They may also include supporting cast members such as family, dear friends, jail wardens, co-workers, children, yada yada yada. Bear in mind that as you age, your basic features and proportions won’t change tremendously. You may fill out. You may thin out. Some low-level wrinkles may start to show. Hairstyles will change. Fashions will change. Have fun with this. Use your imagination. Consider looking at photos of your parents or other familiar figures when they were in their 20s. Use photos of yourself that would make useful references.
_________________________________

Behold: the nerdy “sample” self-portrait I did as a demo for kids on the back of my folder, imagining myself in 2010. Other than having and keeping that motorcycle (which I hadn’t yet acquired at the time of this drawing) until about 6 months ago, I’m somewhat relieved to say my self-portrait was wildly inaccurate, as well.

OK, so I swear I’m not writing a travel/expat blog where I try to provide you with a touching-but-funny memoir of my time among the natives. There are folks who do this in a way I can appreciate, but they’re way outnumbered the folks who churn out dreck, and I hope not to end up in the latter category.

However, I’ve been living in the Czech Republic for roughly 6 months, and seeing as this is presently a big part of my life, here are a few things/places/experiences that have really brought this place home for me, in no particular order. I’ll continue to post erratic, occasional GHOTCZs from now on.

GHOTCZ #1: Žižkov TV Tower
I will bare-knuckle fight anyone who says this thing is an eyesore. It delights me to no end. I know I’ve already rhapsodized about it, but it’s hard to stop. It’s just so big and preposterous and impossible to ignore, and it doesn’t fit in with the packaged, more tourist-friendly center of town, and I love it for all these reasons. It’s just this ridiculous, monstrous, Baby Huey of a transmission device, with a faded, Miami Vice-esque oily paint job in each of the 3 main observation towers. It would be oppressive if it weren’t so damned goofy. It has the best view of Prague imaginable. It’s got a stellar, if under-utilized, metal detector at the entrance. And the apple strudel in the cafe is, for some odd reason, the best we’ve found in the Czech Republic. Maybe it’s the extra altitude.

GHOTCZ #2:Vyšehrad
Surprisingly un-touristed, although hardly undiscovered. Vyšehrad is a massive, wonderful hilltop park, with an extraordinary history, more beautiful views, a snack bar with the nicest lady ever running it, and the most extraordinary cemetery I’ve ever been to. I’m not particularly morbid, but I’ve always found cemeteries beautiful and peaceful, and make a point of seeking them out on most trips. Partly it’s my sculpture background: there’s usually a lot of lovely sculpture to look at, too.

What I love about Vyšehrad Cemetery is the incredible variety, love and individuality put into the sculptures and the graves: the way that many are over-grown and wild, the way that some are absolutely works or art. And the way that some are just SO beyond Goth, like this one:
It’s like, “Fuck yeah, we’re dead. We’re so dead, we’re leading ourselves down into our tomb. That’s how dead we are.”

GHOTCZ #3: Becherovka/Beton
AKA “Christmas in a Bottle”, AKA The Beezy. It has notes of cinnamon and other spices, hence the nickname. The greatness of Czech beer is lost on me since I’m not much of a beer drinker, but Becherovka is high on my list of vaguely medicinal, herbal remedy-ish digestifs that I have a weakness for. When you mix it with tonic and a little lemon, the flavor really shifts and lightens, and it’s called a BeTon. This past weekend, we went to Karlovy Vary, where Becherovka is from, and I made my pilgrimage to the Jan Becher (Becher-ovka…get it?) Museum, and to hug Snow White outside the castle.

GHOTCZ #4: Kavárna Slavia
It’s touristed, yes, but so what: I loveSlavia. Its Art Deco design, combined with a certain Czech no-nonsense-ness CFL lighting after dark, redeems its old-school glamour by giving it a certain frumpy, Denny’s-at-3 am kind of aura. Never had a bad meal here. The desserts are super. Service has always been great. I love to sit by the window in the afternoon.

Okay, that’s the first few. More sporadic rants about excellent Czech stuff soon.